Affections of Sorcerers
by Hikaru Irving
Summary: [Oneshot ArchexKlarth] In the frozen, hellish warzone of the Valhalla Plains, Klarth knew nothing but daily fighting against a great threat. Yet as he fights on in the bloodstained snowfields, he comes to discover so much more than simple combat.


Hikaru: Someone on the ToP forums wanted a Klarth x Arche fic. So . . . here it is.

--

"_I summon thee! Come, Luna!"_

The undead monsters dashed across the snowy plain, weapons raised, ugly heads reared up and emitting equally ugly battle cries. Cress had been injured (a rather large sword gash to the leg) and while Mint tended him, Arche and Klarth were left to stall the monsters or else finish them off.

The Moon Spirit emerged from her multi-dimensional portal in the gloomy, overcast skies, seated comfortably on her glowing crescent moon. Mana flowing about her, Luna simply pointed at the charging monsters. Pillars of light rained down from the heavens, purifying the taints within the unholy monsters. They screamed as they were struck, falling. Their corpses littered the snowy plains within seconds. Luna vanished.

Panting, Klarth knelt on the ground, thinly blanketed by early snowfall. A slight breeze ruffled his clothes, made him shiver. A body's length away Cress still lay on the earth, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, teeth biting on a hunk of medicinal tree bark while Mint administered his wound. Now that Klarth looked, that wound was rather bad; it wept blood on the fresh snow, and the cut flesh on the leg was ragged. Mint, ever so carefully thorough, cleaned the wound and rubbed an apple gel onto the gash, using her divine power to do the rest.

Even during the healing process Cress half-screamed with the severe pain of the gash.

Klarth sat on the cold ground, popping an orange gel into his mouth. The medicine dissolved on his tongue, a sharply tang flavor flooding his mouth. The fatigue he felt by mana exhaustion ebbed away ever so slightly, but not entirely.

Arche floated above the battlefield as she always did on her broomstick, surveying all. Even if she cast more spells than Klarth did, Arche was a half-elf, and thusly channeled mana much better than anyone else here. She hardly seemed affected at all by her heavy magic use. Arche stood on her broom, a remarkable feat of balance, looking into the distance. Looking for more enemies coming their way. The Valhalla Plains were completely overrun by these monsters, and the Midgard army must be having a difficult time. But Klarth, captain of this small special ops unit, must pass through the ranks of the enemy quickly, and take out the head honcho so that Valhalla Plains might be recaptured.

It might seem cruel, but they'd best move soon, even if Cress still wasn't fully healed.

Klarth shook his water canteen; frowned. It was almost empty. Shrugging, he scooped in fresh snow, closed it. Holding it with both hands, he focused Efreet's power into the canteen. Heat radiated from his hands, seeping into the canteen, and surely melted the snow captured inside. He drank sparingly.

When Arche had deemed the current expanse of plain safe enough to rest shortly, she floated down. Once Mint had finished the initial healing, she cleared away a patch of snow, to make a fire. Arche was already getting out the cooking instruments and ingredients. Cress still lay on the earth, however uncomfortable lying on cold, hard, icy earth must be.

Klarth studied his teammates. It was with these people he'd journeyed halfway across the world and back. Each had proved nothing like he first imagined. The only reason he joined them initially was so he could test his theory of a human being able to wield magic—the art of the summoning. His theory proved true—humans, like elves, were born of mana, although for some reason, perhaps a genetic fluke, humans lacked powerful channeling abilities. But humans still had enough mana channeling skill to make a contract with a powerful manifestation of power in this world—a Spirit.

But now . . . he'd been compelled to join them on their noble quest to defeat this lord of all evil, an entity dubbed Dhaos. And in their time together, they'd bonded, even if Klarth was a tad reluctant to admit it. Cress he took a liking to well enough—they respected one another, Klarth to Cress as a swordsman of admirable ability, and Cress to Klarth as one who obtained and thus mastered the summoning arts. Mint Klarth felt was a friend, but not a close one. She was quiet, kept to herself most of the time, except when she spoke to Cress. Mint was an invaluable member of this team; without her skills as a healer, they would have been lost long ago.

The only person here Klarth felt he bonded with the most strongly was the lively pink haired half-elf—Arche. When he first heard of Arche from her father in the mountain valley, Klarth immediately thought of a tree-hugging type of girl, so to speak, to worry about Spirits when in truth she was not beholden to them.

Boy was he surprised.

Mint cooked, stirring the contents of the big pot heated by the fire. Stew, no doubt. The food was nourishing and quite welcome in these frozen hinterlands. The healer stopped briefly from her cooking every now and then to check on Cress. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, although Cress' breathing was still somewhat labored.

Klarth was no healer, but he judged that by the time they'd finished their meal, Cress would be well enough to walk again. Mint would have to heal the rest of the gash so the swordsman would be able to fight should they come across any nasty monster war bands.

Arche sat, shouldering her broomstick, lips turned upward in a pout—Mint wouldn't let her help in cooking the meal. But she wouldn't be bored while she waited for dinner. Klarth saw the sorceress murmuring quietly under her breath, moving her fingers subtly to manipulate the snow on the ground to create little snowmen. Soon she had made up four of the little things, and with a start Klarth recognized the tiny figures as smaller snowmen versions of Arche and her traveling companions.

Cress' snowman had a cape, Mint's had a hat, Klarth's had his hat, and Arche's had her broomstick. Was that Klarth's imagination, or were Klarth and Arche's snowmen placed closer together than the others?

Klarth shook his head. It must be his imagination.

Yet, during dinner, as they ate their stew, Klarth noticed Arche looking at him in the most peculiar way—but once she knew that he observed her, she looked away, eating in silence.

-

They'd ventured quite a distance before they encountered another monster party. Most of them were the usual undead they'd come across so far. Those were disposed with ease. However, what they had not been expecting was one of the monsters hidden in the secondary ranks was a basilisk—a monster that had given them hell in the desert near Olive Village.

Klarth had first seen it. Cress was gutting through some unfortunate other monster, oblivious to any other thing at the moment. Mint was focusing her powers on Cress, for his leg wound was still quite fresh. Arche had occupied herself with disposing of another monster charging for Cress' vulnerable back.

Klarth had been frozen to the ground, stunned, unable to move. The basilisk slithered through the snow, fangs protruding in such an ugly way from its mouth, serpentine forked tongue flickering in and out, eyes glaring. With a start Klarth had questioned why a basilisk was out here in the freezing cold; it was a reptile, after all. However, it was a minion of Dhaos', and Dhaos employed strong magic.

Absently he flipped through his book, preparing a summoning. Which Spirit to beckon? Which Spirit to invoke and eliminate this thing with?

"_I call upon the red giant, the ruler of hellfire!"_

Invoking Efreet in such a frigid place was not easy; Klarth struggled to keep the proper mana from dispersing.

The basilisk slithered at a faster pace now, hissing, going right for Klarth. He stared the giant snake square in the eyes. The two eyes on its face were harmless to look upon; they harbored no magic essence. It was but the hidden third eye in its mouth that transformed beings to stone at one glance.

The summoner was only dimly aware of the other things going on in the battle—of Cress slicing off his monster's arms, of Mint healing Cress, of Arche incinerating the other monster going for Cress with her Firestorm. In the battlefield at this moment, only Klarth and the ever approaching giant basilisk existed on the snowy fields.

Klarth had gathered enough of the appropriate mana to open the distant gates of the plane of fire, where Efreet and its kinfolk ruled. He saw it in his mind's eye; a great ring of fire, shining gold as a door to a bright forbidden world. He opened the door to that world, called for Efreet to come to his aid.

"I summon thee! Come—" 

The basilisk lunged.

Klarth cut off his incantation, throwing himself to his left, falling over in the snow, now deep. His concentration was cut; the vision of the door to Efreet's realm vanished. Klarth inwardly cursed. The basilisk hissed angrily, it reared up, fangs bared, and its jaws began to open wide—

He knew he must not look. If he looked, he would be petrified. He must fight blindly. But how to alert the others? If he alarmed them, they would look, and be petrified.

Klarth could only stand in blind, stark fear. He was close enough to the monster behind him that had no time to summon even a Spirit as Slyph, and his allies were preoccupied. If only there were something he could do! The mana he'd gathered for Efreet's summoning was quickly dispersing.

Klarth had to try. He held on to what little of the fire mana was left; attempted the summoning once more, using his own body heat and mana to venture to the gate once again. The shadow of the basilisk towered over him, Klarth saw its shadow head raise up into a tight S-curve, poised to strike with its massive fangs—

And the shadow was decapitated. The head of the basilisk fell to the snow with a muffled _thud. _

He looked up. Arche stood on her broom, hands outstretched, panting as the heavy spell casting finally took its toll. What had she done? Klarth turned around to see the massive body of the giant snake splayed on the ground, the snow cut into deep grooves where the snake had slithered. The head, gushing rivers of blood, lay harmless in a snowdrift. The summoner craned his neck to look at Arche, stunned.

Arche had not wasted time to use any formal spell—just like how she manipulated the ice by magical means alone, she had thrown a sharp disc of pure mana at the snake, thus beheading it before it could attack. Just pure, unconverted mana from her body alone. No wonder she looked so tired.

Arche looked around, still panting. Wisps of white clouds marked where she breathed. And Klarth stared. He could not tear his eyes off this sorceress that had just saved his life.

"No other monsters," She declared, descending to the earth.

Mint was tending to Cress again; right before he killed his monster, his wound reopened. Mint bound the wound with gauze, using medicinal herbs and magic to aid her.

Abruptly all the mana Klarth had gathered to summon dispersed all at once; he buckled to his knees at its sudden leave taking. He sat, to gather his bearings.

Arche landed almost daintily on the bloodied snowfields. She walked to Klarth, shouldering her broom. Knelt beside him, perhaps to check on him. He sucked in a deep breath of cold winter air.

"You saved me," This he said without much emotion; it was a simple statement.

She "humphed," straightening up as she stood. She faced away from Klarth.

"I told you that summoning was a waste of time."

Was that a faint hint of amusement in her voice?

Klarth couldn't help himself. A small smile crept upon his lips.

"At least I'm not so reckless as to throw such a large portion of my own mana at a monster."

Something stiff, wooden, and hard bounded off Klarth's head; wincing at the pain, he realized that Arche had just hit him upside the head with her broomstick. She was indignant, this much was apparent. When she spoke this time, she sounded angry.

"At least I'm not so heartless as to watch my friend die!"

Klarth blinked.

"What are you so angry about?"

"Never mind!"

With a brisk walk she marched to where Mint tended Cress, a few body's lengths away. Klarth's heart sank. But as the young sorceress walked, she glanced over her shoulder.

She was smiling.

He smiled back.


End file.
